


Magnum Opus

by S_Q_B



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Blindfolds, Bondage, Gags, M/M, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Play, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Toys, Tickling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:47:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25152637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_Q_B/pseuds/S_Q_B
Summary: "You inspire me".
Relationships: Jhin/Sylas, Khada Jhin/Sylas of Dregbourne
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	1. Allegro

**Author's Note:**

> Now that Sylas is completely unplayable in-game, I don't hate him as much XD.  
> Also I'm still learning how to write proper smut, please forgive me D;

A rattle, quick and sharp, pierced through the dark silence.

And back to silence.

A silhouette of a man stays hidden in the complete darkness.

He sat still, the silence guarded by his unconsciousness.

Every now and then, another rattle would break the silence, but not the man’s sleep.

And the room returns to silence, again.

Rattle, silence.

Rattle, and silence.

Rattle.

Silence.

_________________________________________________________________________

Life would have been so much more boring if beauty came in limited variations, Jhin thought to himself. Theatrics could only supply him for so long, so he set off to find new muses. Trekking across Runeterra, his visions were blessed with breathtaking inspirations. Ionia felt like a lotus flowing gently down a stream, soft and calm. Piltover was a rose, blooming out of the soil that is Zaun. Noxus’ power and Demacia’s resilience blended together like a symphony. Every canvas gave him pleasure as he left a part of him in each location, roaring applause following his footstep.

He stopped at Uwendale, the cold discouraging him from traversing into Freljord. Dramatic tension, he told himself. Before the grand finale. While he was there, he set up a small camp, and a trap. Make the most of every opportunity, he believes so. Waiting for a new subject, he retreats inside the camp to put his vision into paintings.

At last, a new audience came to admire his work. Jhin stepped out of his abode to present himself. Before him lays an unconscious man, laying wide open on the dirt. A notable mistake on Jhin’s part, his artworks should never be left filthy. Nevertheless, he must see through the veil of filth to fully appreciate the beauty of a man. 

It appears that someone has laid claim to this canvas, from the chains around his wrists and neck. Jhin loves a challenge to improve on preset foundation, as long as he knows what he’s working with. He inspected the man’s skin, admiring marks from his previous artist. He laid his gloved hands on the man’s body, feeling his heat, his roughness, his imperfection. A muscular man is a rare canvas for Jhin to work on, so he never could quite reject such an opportunity. He would like to keep the lion’s mane, however, the beard could use a trim. Jhin would only allow hair on the man’s head, the remainder on his body will be removed. With the settings planned out, Jhin slips a needle into his future work, lengthening the sedatives’ duration. 

Freljord will have to wait. This intermission might evolve into its own play.

___________________________________________________________________________

The last thing he remembered was approaching the Demacian border, and then stepping on… something. Something grabbed his leg and blasted powder in his face, and consciousness slipped away from him. Even now, he’s struggling to stay awake, with no sound or sight as stimulation. He tries to move, but fails miserably. He tries again to stand up, but immediately realizes his legs will not budge from their position, making him kneel, yet keeping his knees wide apart. His arms betray his commands as well, staying well-locked behind his back, held tight to the floor. The cuff on his neck is now attached to somewhere above him, keeping him upright, exposing his frontside to the cold stone air. Besides all those metals caging his body, all he can feel is a piece of loincloth covering his crotch, a hood over his head, and some fabric locked behind his lips. Something’s even more off, however. He feels even more naked, as if an invisible layer of clothing was also stripped from him. His body feels so wet, yet he can barely feel himself sweating. His mind is still hazy, coherent thoughts forming and breaking apart immediately. He feels trapped both physically and mentally, unable to act, unable to think. 

_ Inanimate. That is the motif of this scene. The shyness of a bud before it blooms at dawn. Jhin appreciates his actor’s artistic interpretation, but he cannot stray too far away from Jhin’s desired atmosphere. So he made sure the cues were embedded in the script, and gave incentives inside his actor’s costume so they followed his suggestion. So far, the scene is just as he envisioned, his actor moving gently like a dandelion in the wind, metal making a wind chime composition to set the scene.  _

Jhin decided that it’s time to move on to a new act. He approached the man, gently removing his mask, preparing for the reveal. He gently pulls the hood away, quickly supporting the man’s head with his hand, while fixing the lion’s mane with his other hand. Waiting for his actor to catch up with the script, he pulled down the gag, and started the next line:

“What is your name?”

The man, having a hard time adapting to the new scene setting, stared directly into Jhin’s eyes, managing to whisper a soft “Sylas”. Sylas gulped down the glass of water Jhin brought, breathing heavily afterwards. Jhin put an actual leather gag in Sylas’ mouth, removed the old spit-covered piece of cloth, and quickly exited the room, making sure to lock the door behind him. Now, the bud will try to break its shell, and attempt to bloom.

____________________________________________________________________________

Sylas was practically screaming into the gag, yet almost no sound was coming out. With his legs basically bolted to the floor, his struggle was limited to his upper body. Even then, the chain still reduced his attempts to nothing but an aggressive sway back and forth. To make matters worse, the petricide cuffs had been replaced by basic metal ones. Without magic to siphon from, he was practically helpless. 

After countless attempts against unbudging steel, he decided to conserve his energy, and wait for his captor to come back. He tried to remember that person’s face, but the drugs clouded his memories. He couldn’t figure out who or what that person could be affiliated with. If his captor was Demacian, surely Sylas would have been executed by now. But if they aren’t, surely there’s no reason to keep him here. They could just hand him over to Demacian authorities and get enough fortune to live 4 lives. So why was he here, immobilized on the floor like a leashed pet?

The confusion and frustration fueled Sylas’ vigour anew, and he returned to struggling and audibly complaining once again.

_ Soon, the second movement of Sylas’ symphony would begin, and Jhin would make his entrance then. Right then, he was very pleased, paying full attention to the harmonies of metal and Sylas’ vocal frustration. He hoped this movement would not last long, though, as his canvas might be ruined with sweat, despite his attempts to limit Sylas’ movements. But perhaps a thin coat of perspiration would change his scene, who knows. Jhin loved to improvise. _

As the first movement drew to a close, Jhin prepared himself. Putting the mask on, he pushed the door open, and Sylas’s head snapped up to meet Jhin’s. He moved in closer, reaching for his artwork’s visage, as Sylas’ turned his head away, avoiding the touch. He touched Sylas’ cheek, gently nudging him forward, encouraging him to maintain eye contact. Sylas growled threateningly, leaning forward, trying to push Jhin back. 

A natural actor always pleases Jhin. This helps the play flow more naturally, making him even more excited for their dance. His thumb lazily drew circles on Sylas’ cheek, deciding what his next step is. Sylas’ eyes sparked red with anger, but Jhin could detect the fearful undertone in his nonverbal aggression. Jhin decided to explore the finer details of his living sculpture, his right hand starting on Sylas’ chest. Massaging his pectorals, Jhin ignored Sylas’s critiques, opting to focus more on the scene at hand. 

Sylas squirmed against Jhin’s intrusions, his entire body reacting all too positively to skin contact. He realized far too late that his body hair was missing, and his own skin was covered in oil, making his captor’s touch more sensitive to him. He howled into the gag, his entire body trembling with anger and humiliation. Yet he could only do as little as gently lean back, exposing even more of his front side to the man. He didn’t dare look as the gloved hands joined together in exploring his sensitized body. With his eyes squeezed shut, a soft brush on his nipple made his entire body arch forward involuntarily, begging for more. Immediately, his captor recognized this, and moved his attention to Sylas’ nubs. Every touch, every pinch sent Sylas into reluctant pleasure, obscene noises breaking out of his gag. He could feel himself getting hard, his loincloth slowly lifting up, revealing his shameful arousal from being touched like this. 

“You are eager,” whispered Jhin. “I love it when my melodies resolve nicely.” He gave the overworked nipple a final flick, enjoying Sylas’ last gasp and shiver, for now. “I would like to extend this buildup a little longer, as this act is missing a bit of pause”. He removed Sylas’ gag, and waited for the man to regain composure. Wiping away bits of drool from Sylas’ face, he heard a familiar question, asked through gritted teeth.

“What do you want from me?”

The answer, however, never comes easy. Organizing his thought, Jhin wiped away the sweat clouding Sylas’ vision. “Who are you?”, the questions continued. He quickly hushed Sylas by putting a finger on his lips. “Allow me”, he replied, whilst quickly fixing Sylas’ hair. “I am but a humble artist. A slave to my own art. And you,” he gently ran his hands through Sylas’ hair, ignoring the jerked movements signaling rejection, “are an exquisite piece of work. A glowing sapphire, unrefined. I want you to be my best project. A representation of my absolute power. My magnum opus”. He pulled out a piece of pure white silk and covered Sylas’ eyes. “Now, I know that it is overwhelming to be the centrepiece of such a dedicated composition. Do not fret, and allow me to take the lead.” 

Almost immediately, curses and violent struggles were thrown in Jhin’s direction. He drank it all in. The anger, the frustration.

_ The fear. It invigorates him. The thrill of a new experiment, a new direction. No one knows how this ends. Not even him. _

Sylas hated this. He absolutely did not want to be anywhere near this... pervert. But he couldn’t move. He couldn’t stop the hands trekking across his entire body. He couldn’t stop his own body from yearning for every touch. He couldn’t stop his mind from craving every second of it. He leaned back involuntarily, arching his back forward, his throbbing boner poking Jhin’s coat. The obscenities grew quieter and quieter. He took in a deep, shaky breath, his hands clenched behind him, his body every so slowly rocking back and forth, grinding his rod against whatever’s in front of him, begging wordlessly.

_ The rose on his cheeks brings such color to the composition _ , Jhin thinks to himself. Sylas had been following his cues quite gracefully, his bare skin reacting to every brush stroke. The way he squirms and twitches at just the right places pleased Jhin greatly. The next step was to free the chords trapped in his throat. He gave the presented hard-on an experimental pull, and Sylas’ entire body jolted, a quick pitched huff escaped him. His actor needed some extra incentive, it seems. Making sure that Sylas couldn’t see him, Jhin took off his mask, and set it to the side. Jhin softly kissed the front of Sylas’ bare chest, his hand still fondling Sylas’ crotch, above the loincloth. His partner must have been a bit stage shy, and a little nervous under the pressure of performing in such a large masterpiece. That was of little concern; Jhin was more than happy to take the lead. He slid his hand past the fabric curtain, giving Sylas’ cock a slow stroke. The swearing returned, but this time softer, out of desire rather than hate. Jhin knew what was needed for a crescendo, and so he introduced his lips to Sylas’ left nipple. Sylas made a choking noise, followed by a deep, resonating groan. A perfect bass note. Jhin gave the other nub some attention with his free hand, and Sylas’ tone pitched up almost a full octave. He felt the dick dancing gracefully in his hand, portraying excitement as a balance to Sylas’ reluctance. As the slow stroke continued, his actor got more and more comfortable, showing more power in his voice. Sylas’ breath shortened, his chest started to heave, and he fully leaned back, allowing Jhin complete artistic control. Jhin sensed that his actor wants a climactic end, but it was far too early for a curtain close. So he had no choice but to cut the motif short, and let go of Sylas, leaving him right on the edge.

Sylas screamed out in frustration, desperately jerking forward, looking for any sort of friction, to no avail. 

“We are rushing”, commented Jhin, returning to adjust Sylas’ stance to an upright position. “Fuck you”, Sylas spat out.

“Exactly my point”, replied Jhin, adjusting Sylas’ mane to fit his vision. “We need a slower tempo”.

Jhin stroked Sylas’ raging hardon again, Sylas gasping at the sudden attention. With Sylas’ lips parted, Jhin fitted the gag back into the opened mouth, earning another colourful vocal aria from his partner. Wiping away the small bit of precum, he rubbed it on Sylas’s sensitive nipples, making his actor shiver. That reminder urged him to improvise on the sketched canvas, so he went to look for his tools.

“Do not worry, Sylas. This is only an intermission”, Jhin said eagerly, kissing Sylas through the leather barrier, and parted ways with him, trying hard to ignore the desperate and confused call from the other man. He went to find two clamps, attached together with chains, and some rope. He returned to the stage, trying to mask his presence. He then clamped both of Sylas’ nipples at the same time, making sure the pinch is just enough to oversensitize the tips. Sylas’ muffled roar could have woken up all of Demacia. The scream was followed by the most pathetic moan a man could make. Jhin pulled on the chain lightly, making Sylas arch forward, yelping out in sudden pain. He connected the chain to the rope, then looped the rope through a hook on the ceiling, making sure the tension was not too much on Sylas. Pulling the rope down, he circled Sylas’ balls and shaft with the rope, making a tight cockring. Finally, he got a slimmer string, tied it around the erect head, and pulled it up to connect with the chains near Sylas’ chest.

“Beautiful,” cried Jhin, taking a step back to assess the work, “you are beautiful”. 

Sylas was held in place, with every slight movement pulling him in directions he couldn’t see. He groaned in exasperation, thoughts leaving his mind. Every tug seemed to trigger sensitive skin, and his body twitched with every slight turn. Overstimulated and stretched beyond his limits, Sylas stayed in that position for what felt like a lifetime.

Jhin, on the other hand, desired some more… flair. He took off the gloves, and once again explored Sylas’ bare skin, the other man growling lividly. He took the opportunity to traverse the exposed sides and back, his fingertip strokes making Sylas twist and turn, pulling on the ropes and chains even more. Wanting to test his actor’s reaction, he focused his fingers on Sylas’ sides and abs. Sylas jerked in response, letting out huffs of air through his nose. A brilliant act. Jhin kept going until breaths turned to vocalized laughs, and jerkings turned to full-body motions. He then switched to Sylas’ inner thighs, and the underside of his balls, creating a different motion. After that, he went up and down, discovering every sensitive patch of skin his actor owned, exploiting them, hearing the symphony of laughters and screams, feeling the sweaty body trying too hard to distance itself from him, then being snapped back by the restrictions. 

After the glorious cadenza, Sylas stopped moving. He slumped as far back in his position as possible, numb to the pain. His breath slowed, his throat dried, his body drenched in sweat. He lost track of time, or place for that matter. His head lowered, hair covering his visage. Jhin lifted Sylas’ head as gently as possible, and removed the blindfold as well as the mouthpiece. 

“Please.” Sylas begged, not even sure what he wanted. Jhin quickly hushed him, giving the tired actor more water, making sure he wasn’t choking on it. Then, Jhin quickly fixed Sylas’ hair again, the other man looking at him with glassy eyes. This was a phenomenal performance, but it lacks a finale. And so, Jhin leaned in for a deep and fervent kiss, Sylas rejecting none of it. The taste of Sylas’ lips excited Jhin, concertos going off in his mind. He wished that this curtain call could last forever.

When their lips parted, Sylas had fallen asleep once more.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Largo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You will be beautiful"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The buff man found the ice sprinkler and some golden boots and now he's meta again.
> 
> I don't know where this fic is going, but it sure is lol.
> 
> Lmk if you guys have any thoughts!

Sylas woke up on a bed this time, completely unsure of the time or place. He was still restrained, but the silk was more comforting on his tender skin. Despite what felt like complete torture before his unconciousness, it appeared that no marks were left on his body. Looking down, Sylas saw that his legs were spread apart, pulled to the sides of the bed at the ankles and knees using silk. His waist was also held down with fabric, binding him to the bed. Looking up, his hands were joined together at the wrist, both enveloped in silk and pulled to the head of the bed, stretching him. The loincloth had been removed, and Sylas’ dick laid semi-erect on his stomach.

The bed was very comfortable. Sylas wanted nothing more than to be able to get off of it. He tried to struggle, but it seemed like his strength did not return alongside his consciousness. 

“You are very eager to continue,” came a voice behind him. Sylas couldn’t move, so he didn’t try to see Jhin’s face. Instead, the virtuoso presented himself before him. His unmasked face brought back the memories, reminding Sylas of his own desperation. Realizing how pathetic he must have sounded, Sylas’ face flushed red, and he turned his head away in shame. He felt a hand brushing away his hair, then touching his face, lazily circling his uncovered cheek. He buried his face as far as it can go on the bed, squeezing his eyes shut. The hand didn’t stop, just gently petting, patiently nudging his face. His patience ran thin, and he turned to face the man above him as slowly as possible.

After such an amazing performance yesterday, it is only natural for an artist to reassess their work. Sylas must have felt some embarrassment from giving it his all like that, but Jhin is more than willing to encourage him to go further.

As those blue eyes shot up to meet his, Jhin leaned down and kissed his partner. A very bold way to start a scene, for sure, but Jhin was feeling very bold that night. Surprisingly, Sylas gave into the kiss, returning some of the favour, albeit a bit stiffly. His artwork had yielded results, it seemed. After pulling away, he looked back down proudly, whilst Sylas looked at him with wide eyes and a confused face, subconsciously trying to pull himself closer together. Jhin softly massaged Sylas’ chest, coaxing him into relaxing again. He trailed down Sylas’ abs, feeling a slight jolt as his hands passed sensitive skin. He gave the throbbing dick a bit of attention, his actor hiding his face behind muscular biceps. Getting Sylas fully hard, Jhin felt the man’s heart pounding wildly. He continued until precum leaked, then stopped and got off of Sylas. His actor was still hiding the furious blushing, beads of sweat starting to form on naked skin. Jhin teased Sylas’ still tender nipples, and his partner moaned breathlessly, his hardon twitching in the air. 

But as soon as Jhin put a finger near his entrance, Sylas went dead still. Jhin tried his best to calm him down, but stage fright was only natural for an act of this caliber. Lubricating his fingers as well as Sylas’ entry, he heard whimpers coming out of the covered face. Jhin massaged the inner thighs to reduce his actor’s clenching, then pushed his index finger in as gently as possible. He patiently waited for Sylas, while the man squirmed slightly, adjusting himself. Jhin made sure that his actor was comfortable, before pushing another finger in. Sylas visibly strained this time, arching his back, but still not saying a word. Jhin slowly moved the fingers in and out, and Sylas sucked in a sharp breath. His finger stayed inside for a long time before Sylas relaxed again. 

Jhin pulled out the massager, lubricating it properly, before inserting it into Sylas. The object is only slightly bigger than Jhin’s two fingers, so Sylas did not have trouble taking it. He pushed it in deep enough, then activated the vibration. Sylas immediately tensed up, letting out a choked moan. 

"Breathtaking", Jhin whispered.

"Fuck you", Sylas groaned, desperately bucking upwards. It felt like absolute torture, he just wanted to cum so badly. His throbbing rod felt like it grew another inch, yet the lack of contact kept him on edge, stalling his orgasm.

“Soon, Sylas”. Jhin gently massaged his actor’s calves, planting featherlight kisses below his abs, feeling the slight jerked movement and the heat coming from his bedmate. He moved away from his canvas to retrieve a very elaborate hood, one of his own design. This is an extreme change in dynamics, but he was hoping that Sylas shared the same artistic vision. He inched closer to the man, presenting him with his ideas. Jhin saw the actor’s eyes widen with fear, as his head shook violently. He dropped the hood, and cupped Sylas’ face with his hands. Sylas’s face was red hot, covered in sweat, and there was saliva at the corner of his lips. His struggling increased, but the soft silk stayed firm and unyielding. Jhin patiently waited for him to slow down, mentally noting how much Sylas likes to rush his tempo. Perhaps the next movement could follow his actor’s creative direction, but Jhin was very confident in his vision then. 

Sylas had used up all his strength. He could not fight any longer. Looking up at Jhin, he tried with all his might to seal his lips shut, possibly forever. Jhin’s hands were no longer on his face, instead they had moved up to his arms, traversing his biceps gently. They explored downwards, massaging his chest, stomach, and everywhere in between. Sylas held in every grunts and groans, breathing very heavily through only his nose. But as the hands joined together at his cock, Sylas unsuccessfully swallowed a moan. Jhin massaged the head with his thumbs, while his fingertips brushed against the backside. Sylas arched upwards again, lips parted, strings of soft sounds escaping his throat. He almost screamed when Jhin’s tongue started lapping his erection, covering every inch in spit. Soon, Sylas’s entire member was engulfed, the warm and wet feeling dulling all his other senses. Jhin slowly moved his head up and down, Sylas unable to do anything but lay there and succumb to his mouth. Jhin slowly pushed the vibrator in, matching the pace of his sucking. Sylas could feel himself getting closer and closer, his whole body tensing up, pulling the silk from every direction.

The vibrator turned off as Jhin popped the erection out, and Sylas’ scream might have shaken the bed. Precum was leaking from the tip of his dick, almost completely lining his stomach. He tried to pull his hand down, grinded against the sheets, bucked his hips wildly, but nothing was gonna take him there. He cursed and swore at Jhin, struggling with what’s left of his strength, wanting to finish himself off. But Jhin said nothing, and the black mask came into his vision again.

He understood. There wasn’t a scenario where he didn’t follow exactly what Jhin wanted. He had not been able to escape, and he wouldn’t be allowed to. Jhin looked at him with an unreadable expression, presenting the mask like how crowns were presented to a king. His cock throbbed again, and his judgement faltered. He opened his mouth and looked at Jhin, feeling nothing but dread and defeat. The standing man moved in closer, and slowly pushed the phallic gag past Sylas’ open lips. He pressed the rest of the hood onto Sylas’ face, lifting his head up to tie all the cords at the back. 

Sylas laid still, for breathing was hard, but not losing control was impossible. He shivered, cold air brushing against his naked body. Every strand of silk felt ten times tighter on him, making him feel completely trapped, mentally and physically. Despite the lack of touch from Jhin, Sylas did not feel himself going any softer. Almost subconsciously, he started moving his hips up and down, feeling his rock hard boner grind against his abdomen. He tested the silk binding him, feeling their restriction against his body, the feeling of helplessness keeping him hot and hard. Unable to think, unable to act, all he could do in that state was lightly struggle, slowly slipping away from reality. 

Jhin congratulated himself for this amazing development. He was so proud of Sylas for showing so much confidence in improvising a beautiful ballet. He ghosted his fingertips along Sylas’ thighs, his actor letting out a small muffled noise, turning his head towards where Jhin touched him. Jhin slowly dragged his fingertips across his canvas, Sylas shivering with every movement. He softly kissed Sylas’ raging hardon, feeling it dance on his lips. He turned on the massager again, and let Sylas be free with his artistic vision. 

On second thought, maybe Jhin would like to add a note. Taking a small thread of silk, he gave Sylas’ rod a couple of strokes, then looped the silk around the base. He continued down the balls, and up the shaft, making a net-like pattern. A cute decoration, but also a guarantee that his actor won’t take the script too far. He heard the muffled complaints coming from Sylas, but decided to ignore it. His actor was still dancing, moving his hips up and down, his silked shaft swaying in the air. Satisfied, he proceeded to exit the room, letting Sylas be free with his own imagination.


End file.
